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CHAPTER SIX
LANDON
Rebecca Owens wasjustwhat I expected. A little shopworn. Completely unaware of how to dress herself or how to style accessories. The kind of woman I often saw when I traveled to the Northwest, and who also littered the Midwest. Little makeup, no plastic surgery. In person, Rebecca was an even plainer version of the woman in the photo she used in herAmerican Profilebio. I sincerely doubted a woman like her knew how to have fun or got down and dirty in the bedroom.
Certainly, wouldn’t be giving head in my Porsche...or anyone else’s, I’m sure.
But beneath that plain exterior lay a woman who was surprisingly beautiful. Sure, Rebecca’s profile photo on the newsletter had been polished and nondescript, but now I had a chance to see her up close, I could also confirm she was gorgeous in a genuine way, a way I didn’t often see in South Florida. Fresh. Maybe a little innocent. And not at all interested in impressing me.
I liked her instantly.
Plus, she was brunette with green eyes, and the promise of a nice rack underneath her clothes. I noticed all that too.
“Here we go,” I said when we arrived at the small porch marking the entrance to the pool house. I had it expressly designed as overflow accommodations for guests, but hadn’t been able to use it since moving in. I took the key from my pocket and unlocked the sleek reinforced glass door. “You’ll find a small living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bath inside. Everything you need while you’re here.”
She stared at me instead of stepping over the threshold. “I’m still not sure about this.”
“Why not? I guarantee it’s better than a hotel room.”
“But—”
“But what?” Realizing I’d rattled her with all these unexpected changes in plans, I stepped closer, biting back a smirk. This was in some ways a power play, and I sensed it was working. This might beherinterview, but it wasmyweekend. “Something wrong?”
“This is a change in terms, that’s all.”
“The setup is still the same. You’ll be able to ask anything, and I plan to hold up my end of the bargain.”
Rebecca’s gaze met mine again. “Good.”
“So go inside.” My smirk turned into a smile, and she stood a little straighter. “I paid top dollar for the renovation of this dump, and you might as well see if it was worth it.”
She laughed and walked through the doorway into the pool house. It was, in many ways, a complement to the main one, a smaller version of the contemporary Caribbean style that made the property shine against the breaking waves of the Atlantic. A splash of mid-century furniture here, some rattan there, clean lines, colorful modern art, and crisp white. I didn’t hate it.
“Feel free to make yourself at home,” I told her from near the doorway and she made her way around the space. “And if you need anything, use the smart home system by the door. My staff will bring whatever you require.”
“Great.” Rebecca placed her tote bag on the side table by the ocean view window and took out her phone. “Also, do you mind if we start? If we go on the record now?”
Surprised, I regarded the device. “You want to start recording?”
She nodded.
“A little eager, huh?”
